Piotr looks simultaneously stricken and like he's about to reach out and strike something himself. Frustration joins rage on his face quite clearly, and he hisses out a breath as he curls both his hands over the top of a chair. His knuckles are white.

"Idiot girl," he breathes, his eyes livid. But underneath, almost entirely blinded out by the rage, there's concern, a flicker of fear. The anger fills in every niche. "Two Vorkosigan armsmen gave up their lives to buy her a chance, but when another was on the line she couldn't just do the damned smart thing and run. God damn it."